The Golden Quartet
by everydaynerd
Summary: The Hogwarts Express, the year 1991: Harry is to be a first year. But what if from the start, he and Draco were friends-best friends, even? In a surprise turn of events, Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione become an unlikely quartet of friends, and their dynamic changes everything, for one son of a Death Eater in particular.
1. Chapter 1

Harry jumped as the door slid open; his whole body practically quivered with nervousness as he sat on the train anxiously. Hogwarts: a school for people like him-witches and wizards, which he hadn't even known he was until a madman with a flowery umbrella barged into his life.

"Oh hello, you were that chap in Madam Malkin's." The pale blonde boy held out a hand which Harry shook, a bit relieved to have an acquaintance of sorts but a bit worried of the boy'f previously superior attitude. "I'm called Draco, Draco Malfoy. You've heard of my father, I presume."

"Er-no, actually," Harry admitted, dreading the boy's reaction but not wanting to pretend. "I've grown up with my aunt and uncle who are-muggles, I believe the word is? But I hadn't the slightest idea that I was a wizard until a few weeks ago."

"Living with muggles? That sounds horrid!" Draco cringed a bit. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"Oh, I'm Harry. Harry Potter." He blushed a bit at Draco's awestruck expression, the other boy's ingrained precociousness disappearing for the first time.

"You can't be serious- _the_ Harry Potter? I hadn't even noticed the scar! Blimey."

"My aunt and uncle find it appalling, so my bangs are grown out to hide it."

"Why should you hide it? You survived an attack by the most powerful wizard of all time, that's not something you should be ashamed of. Muggles, honestly." Draco shook his head in disgust, but Harry was distracted; for the first time, he considered the possibility that perhaps his scar wasn't a bad thing after all, but a reminder that he had faced evil-and lived to tell the tale.

"The man-wizard, rather-who killed my parents, he was called Vladi-Valdan-"

"Voldemort." Draco's voice was a faint whisper, and his eyes swept quickly from side to side. He had been taught to admire the Dark Lord-admire him and fear him. "But you have to call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it's only proper. People will think you know nothing if you don't."

Harry nodded with wide eyes."Oh ok. I saw in the letter from the school that we're not to have brooms, and Hagrid mentioned some kind of sport you fly in, could you...explain it a bit?"

"Quidditch."

"Bless you."

"No, I didn't sneeze-Quidditch is what the sport is called. Seven players on each team, all on broomsticks. Three try to put the main ball through oone of the goal hoops, those are your chasers. Two have these compact bats to hit these nasty balls called bludgers at the other team-you'll want to stay bloody far away from them. A keeper, who kind of guards the goal hoops, and a seeker; they catch this tiny ball called the snitch. The game doesn't end until they do, and they get a hundred and fifty points, so they normally win and it takes hours, but if you're a brilliant seeker, someone like Viktor Krum or Gwenog Jones, you can catch it in minutes and your team might still lose."

They were interrupted by a rap on the door and the screech as it slid open, the youngest redhead from the station offering a tentative smile. "S'it alright if I sit here? Everywhere's full but the third car, and my brother is snogging his girlfriend in there-it's revolting to watch, honestly."

"Weasley," Draco sneered. "D'you-"

"Course it's ok," Harry interrupted, not paying any attention to Draco but thinking of Ron's huge family. What he wouldn't give to have that. "We've plenty of room, right Draco?"

The blonde cocked his head to the side, confusion in his eyes. "I-I mean, yeah, sure." Harry thought it was alright to spend time with an impoverished blood traitor? Father would never approve. Perhaps, just this once, it would be acceptable. Father wouldn't have to know...right?

"We were just talking about Kw-Quit-Quidditch," he told Ron, turning to Draco for a nod of confirmation.

"I love Quidditch! I always play Keeper for my brothers, but I'm rubbish at everything else. Not even decent at keeping, really. My brother Charlie is loads better-they tried to sign him onto England, but he went off with dragons."

"Really? Dragons?" Draco asks, his interest piqued. He'd always heard of the Weasleys as being nontraditional and shameful to purebloods, but surely nothing was more clearly wizard than Quidditch and working with the most well known of magical creatures. It didn't count as associating with a blood traitor.

"Yeah. Er, he sent a photo last week of this Hungarian Horntail-" Ron fished the small picture out of his pocket, a bit crinkled and rough around the edges but showing a tall redhead, with a muscular build and a gash on his left shoulder, one hand resting on a restrained but calm dragon.

"Wicked," Harry breathed, thrilled at this glimpse into the wizarding world. "You have four brothers total?"

"Five. Bill's oldest, he works for Gringotts. You'd never know it, the way he looks, earring and all. Mum's not very pleased."

"So there are seven of you. Wow. I'm an only child, technically I suppose, but I've grown up with my cousin Dudley, which I would think is a bit like having a brother-er, one that doesn't like you at all. What about you, Draco?"

"Only child. Mother and Father always say there's no need to have more when I'm already perfect." He looks down his nose at them rather unconsciously, and Ron glares at him-Dad had never liked the Malfoys, and he could perfectly well understand why.

Harry blinked a bit, and nodded. "You're parents, both of yours, they're all right then?"

"Malfoys have always been some of the finest purebloods around. Father ensures we have everything we could possibly want, and Mother has always taken care of the familial affairs." Harry tried to look impressed, but he felt as though they sounded like carbon copies of the Dursleys: bring home the finances and uphold their status. He didn't want to be reminded of the trouble awaiting him when he returned from Hogwarts-assuming, of course, Dudley's tail was able to be removed and his aunt and uncle allowed him within ten kilometers of their son ever again.

"What about you, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Well-they do their best. Mum's never had time to work-she has her hands full with the seven of us-but she takes care of everything at home, which is quite a lot when you consider how many dishes and laundry there are when nine people are involved. Dad's at the ministry, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, so we do all right. I mean, we're not rich or anything-" he pauses, ears turning red at the sight of the many sweets Harry and Draco have piled in the car, their brand new robes spotless and without a seam out of line, "-but they spend a lot of time helping us whenever we need something. Mum tells us stories, and Dad is always going on about bits of muggle rubbish-thinks it's fascinating. And we play family games of Quidditch all the time whenever Dad, Bill, and Charlie are home."

Draco's lip curled, but Harry tilted his head appreciatively. He could tell Ron felt a bit uncomfortable, but the idea was quaint:a family in which the parents spent so much time with them. While it was clear Ron didn't have the nicest robes or a brand new cauldron, he loved his family and there seemed to be something about them Harry had never had.

For the third time within the hour, the door slid open, and Ron was filled with relief that he was no longer the main topic of conversation.

Before them stood a confident looking girl, her shoulders held back and an exasperated look on her face. Her hair radiated from her head in a frizzy brown curtain, and her brown eyes focused on each of the boys without a pause. "Sorry to bother you, but Neville's lost a toad. Have you seen it?"

"No, sorry. We'll send word if we do. But, if it's Neville's toad, why are you the one looking for it?" Harry inquired.

The girl rolled her eyes. "He was too frightened, he says there are cars of Slytherins and Ravenclaws down this way and he's quite intimidated of them. I offered to ask, and sent him down by the Hufflepuffs."

"What in the blazes is a Hufflepuff?" Harry's green eyes were wide behind the rims of his glasses.

"A house, of course." Draco said. "Hogwarts is split into four: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin."

"I'd hate to be sorted into Slytherin," Ron mentioned. "Everyone who comes out of that house is bad news-even You-Know-Who himself was a Slytherin."

"My father was in Slytherin. As was every one of my ancestors." Draco gripped his wand, eyeing Ron coldly.

"I'm sure it's just a stereotype-no group of people could possibly be all bad," Harry mediated, trying to diffuse the tension. "I'm Harry Potter, by the way." He held a hand out to the girl, whose jaw had now dropped.

"Oh, I've read all about you! That's a bit brash, I'm sorry, it's just so exciting, really, meeting someone so famous. Sorry, that must get a bit bothersome." She babbled a bit, blushing. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"I've never heard of anyone called Granger before," Draco said with narrowed eyes.

"Well, no, my parents are dentists so you wouldn't have. I'm muggleborn-quite the shock to find out that I was a witch! But Mum and Dad are very pleased, they think it's rather fairytale."

"Dentists? What in the bloody hell are those?" Ron asked incredulously, neither he nor Harry noticing Draco's revolted expression, and the way he turned away from the muggleborn girl just enough for her to notice, her gaze dropping to the floor.

"They're sort of, erm, doctors for teeth, I suppose," Harry explained, but his words only further confused the two purebloods.

"Doctors?" Draco demanded.

"You know, they make you well when you're sick, they fix any injuries you've had..." Hermione trailed off as a light went on behind Ron's eyes.

"Oh, muggle Healers!"

"Sure," Harry said with a shrug.

"So these dentists...muggles hire them to tend to their teeth?" Before Hermione could respond, a shriek erupted next to Harry: Draco had jumped to his feet, and was screeching in a high pitched voice, looking in horror at the place he had just been sitting.

"Toad! There's a toad!"

While Ron looked equally disgusted, Harry and Hermione laughed, Harry clasping his hands around the toad securely.

"Neville!" Hermione called out the door. "We've found Trevor!"

 **A/N: Chapter one! I saw the idea for this on tumblr the other day and I fell completely in love with it, so let me know if you think I did it justice-I'll try to update soon!**

 **I myself am a native Floridian, and have never stepped a foot in England, so I apologize if the wording is wrong or anyone seems OOC. Tell me if you have any ideas on how to improve anything, I live for your reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2: Second year

Second Year

/

"So, how was practice?" Hermione's voice was bright as she and Ron approached the two boys stuffing their faces, despite knowing how Draco's lip would curl as soon as her turned to face her.

"Fantastic! Gryffindor is definitely in for a win tomorrow." Harry asserted.

"Rubbish!" Draco declared. "We flew near identically today, Potter, and that was without the Slytherin beaters pelting bludgers at you."

"I still don't understand why you two go for extra practices of your own when you already have team practices three or four days a week and there are only three games a year. Do you really care that little about your marks?"

"Hermione, it's a lost cause." Ron told her. "Quidditch is actually fun, as opposed to your favorite hobbies of 'homework' and 'studying'."

"You should join us some time, Ron!" Harry suggested, receiving an eyebrow raise from Ron, who tilted his head in Draco's direction. "Nonsense, Draco doesn't mind-we're all friends, right Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes widened for a brief moment, but he swallowed and said, "Er, yeah, that would be-good. We could use someone to help make our flight path more, arm, difficult. You might not be awful."

Not kind, by any means, but it was a start. "Right. Well, yeah, I s'pose I'll come out next time then." Ron's words were as awkward as his current posture, and Draco wouldn't lay eyes on Hermione, who he had called a mudblood to her face the first week of school, but her eyes were shining at the progress, and with her hope for the three boys.

While Harry and Draco had become the youngest seekers in a century first year and were always off at practice, Ron had been left behind and started hanging out with the other boys in their dormitory more-Dean happened to study with Hermione many nights, both having started out without any knowledge of the wizard world and with a deep devotion to their education, so she and Ron ended up spending quite a bit of time together and became friends-the troll incident, if nothing else, solidified this fact, and gave her and Harry the beginnings of a friendship-but the point in all this was that she saw how resentful and, well, sad, Ron got when Harry was with Draco and seemed that the two were best friends.

The way she saw it, Harry was friends with Draco and Ron equally, but she supposed being that he'd been very lonely his whole life he likely didn't even realize how much his own presence (and lack thereof) affected his friends.

She blinked out of her thoughts and looked back up at the boys only to see all three of them engrossed in a conversation about the airborne sport, Ron and Draco both citing their favorite teams, mentioning each others' picks' strengths and weaknesses, and she stepped out, allowing herself a small smile.

/

"Hermione!" she heard Harry and Ron's voices even above the ruckus of the student body as she entered the Great Hall, and felt some of the air leave her bodies they both barreled into her. "We were so worried," Harry's voice said from her left as they both released her.

"Yes, well, thanks to Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey I'm fine-I was told by Seamus you two have been up to the usual world-saving, life-risking nonsense?" They both blushed. "So you can manage that without me, now the real question: did you stay for exams at all?"

"Well you see," Ron began hastily, "The thing is, until very late last night we were under the impression the school was going to be shut down, so we weren't exactly needing to study."

She opened her mouth, fully prepared to give a sassy retort, when she heard a slight cough behind her-a familiar, somewhat pretentious cough, and she spun to face him.

"Draco," she said, surprised.

"Granger." His voice was not without its usual tone of distaste. "I-I don't like you." Hermione simply raised an eyebrow, quite aware of this fact, and put out a hand to Ron, who she had felt tense behind her. "What I mean to say is I don't like you, but I-I'm, er, glad, that you weren't killed by the snake."

The situation was bizarre, but she took it in stride, giving him a nod of thanks. "That means quite a bit, coming from you."

"Well, don't get used to it," he tugged on his collar. "That's all. I just thought you ought to know."

And he went with the boys to play wizard chess in the Gryffindor common room as though nothing had happened, and perhaps maybe nothing had, but on the Hogwarts Express on the way home all four of them sat in the same car for the first time.


End file.
